


in my defense, i have none

by lukepattersons



Series: we were something, don't you think so? [2]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, willex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:55:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28721724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukepattersons/pseuds/lukepattersons
Summary: because even ghosts deserve a little introspection!
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Series: we were something, don't you think so? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105520
Kudos: 30





	in my defense, i have none

**Author's Note:**

> thought i'd explore Willie's thought processes in this lil blurb; i may update one more time (if any1 wants), bc i still have many thoughts ab the Willie/Julie dynamic. leave comments if u like!

Defining the relationship was easy—turns out, once you’ve accidentally auctioned off your boyfriend’s soul, any awkwardness surrounding “dating” as a subject matter tends to dissipate rather quickly. At least, for Willie, it had. 

The past two weeks had felt like the longest of his entire afterlife, but their resolution landed him exactly where he’d hoped: with him and Alex as a couple. It was as official as any postmortem love story could get—Willie just wished everything else wasn’t so complicated. 

The decision to leave everything behind came easily enough—seeing Caleb parade Alex and his friends to the Hollywood Ghost Club crowd against their will had felt an appropriate level of heartbreaking—but the plan’s execution was where Willie’s problem really lied. There was only so much he could do to get away from Caleb without risking flickering out of existence himself; he was branded, just like the boys had been, but he was so much farther than they were from sorting out the root of his unfinished business. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to figure that out, especially if it meant keeping him away from Alex forever. It was a heavy thing to admit but he could not stand to deny it much longer. 

Willie had done a myriad of selfish things in his lifetime and in the time beyond that, but he suspected the most selfish was wishing Alex had felt even the slightest bit of hesitation about crossing over with his friends, because of him. So, yeah, a dark little corner of Willie’s mind had wanted to be factored into Alex’s decision-making, but he could hardly articulate the fact, and much less understand the intrinsic need to keep the blonde close after knowing him for such a short while. He had grown tired of chastising himself for the selfish nature of that thought, though; he knew he had done more than enough to make up for his misstep in introducing the band to Caleb, and had been even more self-sacrificing in pushing them toward crossing despite the immediate knot it tied up in his stomach. Besides, he hardly needed to continue holding himself so accountable when Julie did such a great job of keeping the subject alive herself. It was an active effort, avoiding thinking about his self-interest, but Willie figured that facing an eternity alone—after having grown such hopes for the very opposite—entitled him to at least a little indulgence. 

Maybe that was why tracing Alex down, behind Caleb’s back, had felt such the natural choice. Willie had seen what Caleb had done to them at the club, he understood the level of servitude the three would have had to endure to keep themselves half-alive in Caleb’s band. And then he was witness to the sheer force of will it took to transport them to the Orpheum, in Julie’s time of need. 

It was clear to him then, even clearer to him while watching their show, and looking at Alex now—long limbs sprawled on the floor just left of Julie’s bed, poignantly set apart from his friends otherwise entangled amongst themselves, and securing what Willie thought to be a tiny corner of a cushion just for him—it became impossible to contest. Skating Bieber’s pool paled in comparison to even a second spent with Alex, or under his genuine consideration. 

The nature of Willie’s deal with Caleb was a little different from the rest of the group’s. He had a stamp, just like them, but Willie’s membership in the club wasn’t contingent on performances or acts of service—he suspected his straying would burn more like the betrayal of a son. Caleb had, after all, granted him allowances any father would unto their children: a bed to lay their head at rest, the truth about the nature of their existence, a brand of freedom bound only by a state of trust and companionship. Willie feared he had only been able to get as far from Caleb’s grasp as he had due to the affinity the man felt for him, but his friends’ escape would surely pose a direct blow to his ego—Willie sensed his peaceful moments were likely limited to a handful. He just hoped Julie wouldn’t catch on to his squatting in the loft in the garage before his time truly ran out. Every moment with Alex was precious.

So, because their triumph was likely finite, Willie actively swallowed any difficulty he found in turning his back to Caleb. The reprieve brought to him as a byproduct of their unhealthy dynamic mattered little in comparison to the despair he felt in thinking of his life without the friendship and—universe allowing—potential love, of Alex. 

From the corner of the room where Willie stood, he could see the blonde had rejected the human warmth of his newfound bandmate, and the friendly embrace of his old ones, to lay beside him on the floor. He stood just outside of the group’s line of sight, under protection of total darkness. Alex thought his lurking was creepy, he had even yelled at him for it once, but it wasn’t that Willie necessarily enjoyed spying; it was more that he found it rather difficult to witness a scene so naturally cohesive, so perfectly made up, without feeling like his presence was a disservice to the others. Turns out dismantling his grief was an active and laborious process, too. 

He sighed, taking a further step into Julie’s bedroom. He caused little disturbance, the group seemed mostly immersed in what looked to him like a _Star Wars_ movie, with the exception of Luke, who, despite the little wave given toward Willie’s direction, seemed to be on the brink of unconsciousness. Willie greeted them accordingly, conscious of Julie’s eyes in his direction, and followed suit to Alex’s side. 

“Mercer,” he said, bony elbow nudging the other boy’s ribs as he settled on the large floor cushion. It was far from comfortable, but he would rather flicker out of existence altogether than be caught complaining about this level of proximity to Alex. 

“William,” Alex whispered in response, “nice of you to join us.” 

“It is, isn't it?” 

Alex offered him something between a chuckle and a snort. He did that a lot—it was a wonder that they called _Willie_ the giggly one. 

“You know, it was kind of a given, considering I live in the backyard,” the last few words travelled softly from Willie’s lips, a hushed whisper. 

“Fair enough.”

Alex settled further out onto the edge of the cushion, nearly wedging half of his body underneath the wooden frame of Julie’s queen sized bed. Willie moved along with him, conscious of the space the boy seemed to be creating for his comfort. 

“I am just glad you’re here,”

“Me too.”

And it was true, only so far as his feelings were concerned. Everything else was muddled guilt and drowned out anxiety—Alex was rubbing off on him. But tiny moments like these brought solace. Alex’s extended arm was an invitation: to forget, to feel warmth for the first time since he walked among the living, to hold on. It was overwhelming. But it was as close to human as Willie had felt in a long time, so he allowed himself that tenderness. Everything else he’d consider tomorrow’s problem.


End file.
